I

Walking to her dormitory from watching the new first years being sorted, she thought she faintly heard her name being called. Whipping her head around and searching the courtyard meticulously, Hermione assured herself that she was alone. A couple more steps and she heard it again. She stopped dead this time. Something familiar was in the air; it smelt like burnt wood and a touch of sage. She knew this smell.

"Professor…?" Hermione called in an unsure whisper. A figure moved out from behind a tree and Hermione could feel her heart skip a beat.

"My darling, what are you doing in the courtyard?" Severus took her face in his hands.

"I was…" She trailed off as his eyes took hold of hers. He could suck the breath from her lungs in a single look.

"Yes, my dear. I was looking for you too." Their lips met and Hermione swore there was a flash of lightening in the sky. Moments later, it began to rain. As she walked away from her rendezvous and put her hand in her pocket, her hand closed around a folded piece of paper.

II

"You lose something, Granger?"

The boy's foot smashed the piece of paper into the hard stone floor. Hermione took a step forward, her body more daring that her heart.

"Give it back Justin," Hermione mumbled, her voice barely audible.

"No, I think I'll read it first," he said as he began to unfold the carefully creased note. The crowd that gathered had a hungry, bloodlust look in their eyes as if the paper was the lamb among the wolves.

"My darling girl, shining brighter than the sun

When I met you, you were so much fun

How can I tell that you're the one?

Because, my darling, we're never done."

Their laughter ripped her heart out of her chest. She snatched the note but it was too late. He hadn't signed his name but he knew his writing when he heard it. Turning on his heel, Severus rushed back to his office. Hermione heard the scraping of his shoe on the floor. Tears streamed into her eyes and down her face but she still managed to see where he was going.

III

"Come in."

His office never changed. Some might have called it drab but Hermione liked to think of it as plain. The walls were white and the furniture had a grayish tint to it. A large desk sat in the corner with an industrial sized paper-shredder on it. The floor was hardwood so every footfall echoed in the large space. He sat in a chair by the window, hair falling in front of his stoic expression. Hermione usually loved when he looked this way because it meant he was thinking. Now, she was afraid to know what he was thinking about.

"Sir," she began. He waved a hand at her, telling her to stop. Hermione cautiously moved closer and saw that his cheeks were moist. She didn't know why she kept calling him "sir". Reflex, she supposed. She pulled up a chair, also gray and identical to the one he occupied.

"I know it was a secret but it only fell out my pocket and that evil boy grabbed it from me," Hermione rushed her explanation so that he would not stop her again. He nodded in response. Severus looked so helpless in that moment to her. The color had drained out of his face and his head rested upon his left hand. A watery groan came from the depths of his throat and he parted his lips to speak.

"I don't know how to do this," he heaved a sigh. Hermione steadied herself for a harsh rejection; braced her feet firmly on the ground and constructed a softened yet unaffected face.

"I love you." And all was lost.

IV

"How many people in the world do you think are as happy as we are at this very moment?"

Hermione smiled and turned her body towards him. The sheets tangled around her ankles, binding her to the bed.

"No one is as happy as we are, my love," he answered simply, as if she had asked him the time or date. Severus took her hand in his and put them together like he was comparing their sizes. The window across from the bed showed that the world was asleep. No lights were on and the only sounds were crickets singing love songs to one another. The bed felt cool to Hermione, regardless of the flurry of activity happening only minutes before. It was like sleeping in a pond deep enough so that only your back got wet and your face was still breathing air and not water.

"We are like a puzzle, my beautiful girl," he breathed as he traced the contours of her body with a single finger.

"We match, you and I," she said between gasps. She could feel the blood roses bloom under the skin of her neck.

V

"Whatever you're selling, we don't want to buy it," the woman said as she began to shut the door. A confused look passed over Hermione's face.

"Ma'am, excuse me!" The woman stopped and gave her another look, this one was more impatient.

"I was wondering if this was the home of Professor Severus Snape." The woman nodded and opened the door. Hermione could feel her face turning red. She had not expected this; this wasn't supposed to happen She thanked the woman when she pointed to a door off the main hallway. A knock later and her prayers were answered.

"What the fuck are you doing here?" her love asked in an urgent whisper.

"I had to see you, it's been almost two months!" she said just as urgently. He pulled her inside the door and she saw that it was another office, identical to the one at the school. Only this one had no windows and much less light.

"I don't know why I bothered to give you this address. You never should have come. I should have moved."

"You should have told me you had a wife."

"I'm forty-three, of course I have a fucking wife!" He turned toward her and grabbed her by the shoulders. Deeply, demanding, and hard he kissed her. The thrill of the secret took hold of her again. The sound of hand meeting face caught up to her and she fell to the ground.

"Now get out."

VI

"You don't, do you?"

The mechanical whir of the paper shredder was her only answer. The room was dark save the lamp on the desk that she had turned on to prevent shredding her fingers. Stacks of papers surrounded her and open file cabinets populated the room. It was after midnight and the machine penetrated the soundless night. Hermione waded through the scraps of destroyed letters at her feet to grab another one.

"I am not your secret."